


Lore Olympus

by Franklin_With_Needles



Category: Lore Olympus
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love Confessions, Mistakes, Misunderstandings, Oops, Persephone understands, apollo pays, domestic abuse, minthe is a little brch, my finger slipped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-02 10:50:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Franklin_With_Needles/pseuds/Franklin_With_Needles
Summary: OrWhat if Persephone did go to Hades after hours in Episode 68?Oneshot.





	Lore Olympus

“This is a horrible idea!” Persephone violently whispered, the pink goddess shaggily pulling at the ivory leather coat that was loose on her curved body flushed with a dark red. 

“Oh, hush!” Eros patted her back. “Everything will be fine!” 

He smiled giddily at her, toes barely touching the ground with his wings out with full volume. They arched, flapping excitedly. 

“Define fine!” She harassed the buttons on her coat, shaking hands pulling up the collar of her coat upwards. Her ankles rolled with each step, achingly sore from miles of walking; Eros insisting that she practice with walking with the inches of sharp heels in which her ankles hurtfully lolled to. 

Persephone growled at the ever-changing floor below her, a royal blue slowly turning to obsidian with a cerulean shine. An indicator that Hades’ office was nearby; another was the many familiar faces walking past Persephone, ones she’d seen in the office. They all adorned the same exhausted features, wrinkled eyebrows with a low mouth of the work they were doing from the long hours. Why she didn’t refuse Eros’ plan in the first place, she doesn’t know. 

But she does. She just doesn’t want to acknowledge the blood boiling within her chest, and how it wants to wrap vines so tight around Minthe that her face goes black— much more darker than her usual crimson complexion. She feels jealous, and she doesn’t like it. 

Persephone doesn’t want to hurt Hades, but what he did hurt her. Yet the way his lips twitched with sympathy, the way his eyebrows curled and his lips tugged a frown showed her that it wasn’t mean to hurt her. But Minthe went to far. She rubbed salt within the fresh wound, and proceeded to dump it with alcohol and poison which burned Persephone’s veins and made her heart ache with a sadistic fire. 

No, she decides. She does not like this feeling. 

She only awoke from her thoughts as Eros’ soft but calloused hands push her forwards that nearly sends her tumbling face-first to the glass doors. Persephone can feel her eyes go bug-wide as she stumbles to regain her balance. She thinks she grew a few inches of hair from that one quick shove. 

But her thoughts are quickly abandoned as her curious eyes travel along the few feet front of her to suddenly beam up, high chinned and glowing, to the incredibly tall office of Hades’. It’s much more intimidating than the last time she came around.

She looks back at Eros, loose hair hits her cheeks lightly as she feels her jacket flutter softly in the windy night. It’s always night here.

He’s smiling so goofy again, but all she can see is the smile of Hades. What will he do? This isn’t going well. She doesn’t like this, and she doesn’t want to do this. He’ll hate her after this, because what if she makes him do stuff that he doesn’t want to do?

Eros frowns, his wings drooping and his eyes lose the golden shine that was in contrast to such shaded colours beyond them. But, Persephone revelled at herself giddily, she is pink compared to everything else - <strike>something that she thinks Hades adores about her </strike> \- and the dark ground contrasts to her skin and makes it pop out much more than usual.

“We don’t _have _to do it if you don’t want to.” Eros blinked at her, wide puppy-eyes glowing with pure innocence; although Persephone is incredibly sure that Eros isn’t as innocent as he acts to be. 

“No,” she shudders out, the cold air of the Underworld getting to her flushed skin underneath her thin coat, “I want to.” 

She doesn’t go on about what she wants to do, but Eros understands. Karma is a bitch, and Persephone has changed. She isn’t a child anymore, and she’s never going back. Not with Apollo, not with anyone else and she can’t focus on the repercussions of her actions just yet. Artemis and Demeter have given her foul tastes in her mouth recently and she feels rage and vines take ahold of her. 

A gust of wind makes her coat fly, and she has a strong hold of it as Eros bids her goodbye. 

And she can take back what’s truly hers only; Hades’ heart. 

And her dish that she lended to him for the Baklava.

* * *

Hades can barely feel his stiff toes as his back crackles in dismay at the lack of movement his body had experienced. The lingering hangover of the morning after <strike>Minthe stood him up </strike> was horrendous, it throbbed with a distasteful memory that Hades wants to forget. 

It’s after hours, plenty of the workers gone home after such a dutiful day. Hecate bid him goodnight, and gave him an everlasting hug due to his extreme disappointment in the missing nymph who didn’t show up at work. 

It isn’t until he hears multiple clicks of unrecognizable heels, something Hecate wouldn’t wear when she was wearing flats just earlier, and yet it’s a sharp sound that pierces and echoes reverberating inside the hallway to Hades’ office. 

For an unmistakeable moment, Hades’ heart rises as the unknown assailant - he’s not sure if it is anyone like that but he cannot be too cautious - creeps closer. Hades finds himself pushing his chair into his desk, abandoning the long and scratchy scrolls that are hanging off the edge as he stalks closer to the hall. 

His back is flat beside the door, whoever coming to his office would be blind to where he is. Call Hades paranoid, but suffering years of your irritating brother popping up behind closed doors will do that to someone. 

An ivory pointed shoe comes toe-first into the room, and Hades jumps out. 

“What are you doing?” He doesn’t mean to sound intimidating, but his voice comes out booming. Gorgeous white lightning strikes out from behind the glass that lights up Hades’ silhouette as his shadow covers the primrosed girl in front of him.

A pitiful yelp comes from her, and sympathy strikes Hades in the heart. He didn’t mean to frighten her, only to scare a bit. It’s on his part, because his intentions led to somewhere different and somewhere he didn’t want but did anyway. 

Hand stretched out, Hades can see her trembling hands fumbling at her coat buttons and he sees pink.

Pink hands drop her coat, white coat falls to the ground. Pink hands drop her coat. She is wearing nothing under the coat. Her boobs are exposed, her — he doesn’t look farther, only to glance up. It’s a pretty plush face that’s as burgundy as a pomegranate.

Persephone?


End file.
